2. Ice, Silk, and Submission #2
My fingers parted her folds. She was so wet that the lubricant was practically dripping onto the sheets, her clit engorged and peeking out from its hood like it was begging for attention.
I’d already taken her virginity tonight.
Already stretched her open with my cock.
But seeing her like this—tied down, helpless, trembling with anticipation—made me want to ruin her all over again.
“Deep breath,” I warned.
Then I pushed the ice cube inside her.
The sound she made was animal. A high, keening wail that cut off abruptly as she remembered the ice in her own mouth, the dual sensation of cold inside and cold on her tongue short-circuiting something in her brain. Her hips bucked. Her bound wrists pulled so hard I heard the bedframe creak.
“There it is,” I growled. “There’s that pretty cunt, full of ice. How does it feel?”
She couldn’t answer. Could barely breathe. Her chest heaved, nipples still tight and dark from my earlier attention, and her inner walls were spasming around the intrusion of cold.
I didn’t wait for her to adjust.
I lowered my mouth to her clit and sucked.
Kayla screamed.
The ice melted faster than I expected—the heat of her body and my mouth working in tandem, cold water mixing with her own wetness until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
I licked into her with long, slow strokes, chasing the taste of her, chasing the way her thighs trembled against my shoulders.
“Fuck, you taste good,” I muttered against her flesh. “Better than anything I’ve ever had. You know that? You know your cunt is the sweetest thing I’ve ever put my mouth on?”
“Sam—Sam, please—”
“Please what?”
“Please let me come. I need to come, sir, I’m so close—”
I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes over the plane of her stomach. “Did I say you could come?”
“No, sir.”
“Then you don’t come. You hold it. You hold it until I decide you’ve earned it.”
Her head fell back against the pillow. A sob wrenched out of her chest, and fresh tears tracked down her temples into her hair.
I went back to work.
My tongue circled her clit in the same relentless pattern I’d used earlier—slow, deliberate, never quite fast enough to tip her over.
Every time her breathing changed, every time her muscles started to clench, I pulled back.
Edged her. Let her dangle on the precipice until she was babbling nonsense, words running together in a stream of pleasepleaseplease and I’ll do anything and sir sir sir.
The ice melted completely. I felt it happen—one moment there was a hard sliver of cold against my tongue, and the next there was only heat and slick and the flutter of her internal muscles.
“Swallow,” I commanded.
She did. The water from the cube in her mouth disappeared down her throat.
“Good girl. Now I’m going to give you another one.”
Her eyes flew open. “No—Sam, I can’t, I really can’t—”
“You can.” I reached for the towel, drying my hand. “But not ice this time.”
I stood up. Unbuckled my belt, which I’d never refastened after the first round. My slacks hit the floor, followed by my boxers, and my cock sprang free—thick, veined, the head already slick with pre-come.
Kayla stared at it. Swallowed.
“You’re going to suck my cock,” I said. “And if you do a good job, I’ll let you come.”
“My hands—”
“Stay tied. You don’t need your hands.” I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself over her—knees on either side of her head, cock hanging heavy above her face. “Open.”
Her mouth opened obediently. Tongue out. Waiting.
I fed her the head.
The heat was indescribable. Her mouth was fever-warm after the ice, and the contrast made me groan, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. Kayla gagged, throat constricting around the intrusion, and I pulled back just enough to let her breathe.
“Slow,” I said. “Breathe through your nose. Relax your jaw.”
She tried again. Took me deeper this time, lips stretched wide around my girth, and when she looked up at me with those wet, pleading eyes, I nearly lost control right there.
“That’s it. Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—virgin this morning and now you’re choking on your stepdad’s cock like you were born for it.”
She moaned around me. The vibration traveled down my shaft and settled in my balls, and I had to grip the headboard to keep from fucking her throat the way I wanted to.
“You like that? You like being on your knees for me even when you can’t move?” I pulled out. Let her gasp for air. Pushed back in. “Say yes, sir.”
“Yeth, thir,” she managed around my cock.
“Good fucking girl.”
I set a rhythm—shallow thrusts that let her breathe, interspersed with moments where I held myself deep and let her struggle. Her throat worked around me, swallowing reflexively, and the sounds she made were wet and desperate and so obscene I knew I’d be replaying them in my memory for weeks.
My hand found her hair. Gripped. Held her in place.
“I’m going to come,” I said, and the words were ragged, torn out of me. “I’m going to come down your throat and you’re going to swallow every drop. Understand?”
She nodded as best she could with my cock buried in her mouth.
“Then you’ll get your reward.”
Three more thrusts. Four. On the fifth, I buried myself to the root and let go.
The orgasm ripped through me like a riptide. I felt her throat constrict as she swallowed, felt the rhythmic milking of her muscles around my shaft, felt the way her tongue pressed against the underside in a desperate attempt to catch every drop.
When I pulled out, she gasped for air. A strand of saliva and come connected her bottom lip to my cockhead. I wiped it away with my thumb.
“Swallow,” I said.
She did. Opened her mouth afterward to show me it was empty.
I swung my leg over her and moved back down the bed. Her cunt was still spread open, still glistening, still waiting.
“Now,” I said, positioning myself at her entrance. “You’ve earned it. Come for me, Kayla. Come on my cock while I fuck you through it.”
I slammed home in one stroke.
She screamed. Came. Her body convulsed around me, muscles clamping down so hard I could barely move, and I fucked her through it with deep, punishing strokes that made the headboard slam against the wall.
“Yes—yes—fuck—Sam—”
“That’s it. Let go. Give me everything.”
Her orgasm seemed to last forever. When it finally subsided, she was limp, trembling, tears streaming down her face.
But her cunt was still fluttering around me. Still hungry.
I leaned down. Pressed my mouth to her ear.
“I’m not done yet,” I whispered.
And I started moving again.